


can you build my house from pieces (I'm just a chemical)

by dressedupasmyself



Series: Somewhere Only We Know [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, F/M, Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 14:31:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19725580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dressedupasmyself/pseuds/dressedupasmyself
Summary: Harry gets back from Romania to find that George still won't leave his room. As promised, he takes matters into his own hands.





	can you build my house from pieces (I'm just a chemical)

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from the song Chlorine by Twenty One Pilots.

The Burrow had never been this quiet.

Harry took another bite of cereal and tried not to wince at how loud his chewing seemed to be in the deathly silence of the kitchen.

He rubbed his socked feet together under the table, trying to generate some heat in the freezing room. He swept his gaze along the walls, taking in all the familiar things he’d almost forgotten about since he’d last been there.

As it had every single time that he’d noticed it, his eyes lingered on the clock. He was never surprised to see Ginny and Ron’s clock hands stuck on School, Bill and Arthur’s drifting between Home, Work and Garden and Molly’s seemed to be constantly moving, never in one place for very long. However, he was always surprised, and a little bit sad, when he noticed that none of the rest of the Weasley family had moved from their positions.

Charlie’s name and face always caused something uncomfortable to creep under his collar, especially in those moments when his hand was hovering firmly over Mortal Peril. Harry knew enough about Charlie’s day job to be able to guess what exactly was happening to pose such a threat to his life.

Then there was George. Even as Harry sat there, his clock hand seemed forever paused over Lost. Every time Harry saw it, he was reminded of how little George’s behaviour had changed in the year that he’d been gone. He still didn’t join his parents for dinner or leave the house much. He still hadn’t changed a thing on Fred’s side of their bedroom and he still refused to set foot in the shop, even though Harry had cleared out every last piece of evidence that showed the place hadn’t always been in the pristine condition that it started out as.

It was really starting to grow on Harry’s nerves.

The backdoor swung open, pulling Harry from his thoughts. He stood to put his empty bowl in the sink, then went to greet Molly with a hug as she levitated a grocery bag to rest on the counter.

”Morning, Harry,” she greeted. Harry noticed the strain on the sides of her smile and the way her eyes didn’t crinkle as it usually did when she smiled at him.

“Is everything alright?” he asked carefully, sitting back down at the table. Molly bustled around him, her wand flicking to make the groceries fly to their appropriate places and the fireplace light up.

“Oh, it’s nothing you need to worry about, Honey,” Molly wiped a hand over her forehead. “I’m just being silly.”

Harry leaned forward so his elbows were braced on the table. “I’m sure it’s not silly if it upset you enough for me to notice.”

“Oh,” Molly repeated, then slumped into the seat next to Harry. “I just- I asked Georgie this morning if he would join us for dinner tonight. Ron and Ginny are flooing over from Hogwarts so it would have been nice to have the whole family together.” She frowned. “I don’t want to push him too hard.”

Harry felt an ice-cold shiver rake up his spine. “Did he snap at you?”

Molly raised her hands defensively. “He has every right to, I need to cut him some slack.”

Harry clenched his teeth slightly. This frustration had been building ever since he got back from Romania, and enough was enough.

“Yeah, no.” Harry stood, making Molly eye him cautiously. “He’ll be at dinner.”

He made it all the way to the kitchen door before Molly’s quiet voice stopped him in his tracks.

“He’s hurting,” she said. “Leave him be.”

Harry turned his head to face her but made no move to sit back down. “No, Molly. He’s not the only one to lose people in the war. We gave him space, we allowed him his time to grieve. Now he’s just wasting away his life and hurting the people around him. I won’t allow it.”

Molly’s gaze softened, and she didn’t try to stop him again. He was struck by how old she looked in that moment. He doubled back to wrap his arms around her and press a kiss to the top of her head. “I won’t let you lose another son just because he’s drowning in a pool of pity, okay?”

Molly stroked the back of his hand. “Alright.” The word was barely a whisper, but it was enough to have Harry taking the stairs two at a time.

He didn’t pause long outside the twins’ room, only knocking twice, loudly, then opening the door.

George was sat on top of his desk, looking out over pieces of what looked to be a disassembled umbrella spattered all over the floor. He barely even looked up when Harry entered.

“Go away,” he said. His tone was harsh and flat, which only fuelled Harry’s anger.

“No.” He slammed the door shut loudly behind him and cast a silencing charm. George jumped, finally looking up at Harry with an annoyed frown.

His hair was long and dishevelled, as greasy as if he hadn’t washed it in a while. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he had a large orange stain across the front of his worn night shirt. The sight broke Harry’s heart, but he couldn’t find it in himself to feel sorry for his friend.

“What the fuck?” George exclaimed when Harry wordlessly summoned his wand and spelled the curtains wide open with a flick of his wrist. “Leave me alone.”

Harry scoffed. “Not this time, buddy. You and I are going to have a chat.” Harry grabbed the nearest object to him, which happened to be a stray pillow from Fred’s bed, and transfigured it into a chair.

George’s gaze zeroed in on his actions, his fist clenching at his side. “That was Fred’s,” he growled. Lesser men might have been afraid at the pure hatred in his voice, but Harry had taken on scarier things in his life and simply sat down, maintaining eye contact.

“Yeah, and now it’s my chair,” he countered. He wasn’t about to back down. He’d relied on pure stubbornness for eleven years of dealing with the Dursleys. A few animalistic sounds weren’t about to make him give up. “What did you say to Molly this morning?”

George was still glaring daggers into Harry’s head, but he shrugged. “Can’t remember.”

“Bullshit.”

George stayed quiet.

“Okay, look,” Harry changed his tactic, running a hand through his hair. “Here’s the deal. You’re coming to dinner tonight, and then tomorrow morning you and I are going to Diagon Ally. I’m not going to accept any of your shitty excuses, and I won’t be swayed by this pity party you’ve got going on, so you can stop growling at me like a bear that’s just swallowed a beehive and go take a shower. You’re starting to look a bit like Snape.”

Harry stood, flicking his wand to return the pillow to its original form. “And when you do get downstairs for dinner, be sure to apologise to your mother for all the shit you’ve probably said and done to her in the past year. You do not have a monopoly on grief, and thanks to you, that amazing woman has had to mourn the loss of two of her sons, not just one. I’m done standing by and letting you hurt her like that.”

Harry felt guilty for using that line, because he knew exactly how much it hurt to have Molly’s pain pinned on you, but he didn’t let the feeling stay very long. He did recognise the irony in his sentence, as it matched almost word to word with the one Ginny gave him when he was the one being an idiot.

George seemed a bit shell-shocked, his mouth hanging slightly open as he stared at Harry.

Harry released the silencing charm on his way out. He was a bit disappointed that it hadn’t been useful. He wanted George to yell it out, to release some of the tightly wound emotion he wasn’t getting rid of. But for now, this would have to do. Harry had a plan, anyway.

***

Life seemed to return to the Burrow as everyone started to arrive. Ginny arrived first, carrying an unfamiliar black kitten on her shoulder. The kitten had its eyes squeezed shut as it snoozed happily on her shoulder.

“Harry!” she exclaimed once she lay eyes on him where he was leaning against the kitchen counter, keeping Molly company as she cooked. She rushed over to hug him and he squeezed her tightly. “I missed you.”

Harry met Molly’s gaze over Ginny’s shoulder, and it was far too obvious what she was thinking. He gently stepped away from Ginny, grinning softly at her. “How have you been?”

Ginny moved around the kitchen table to hug her mother. “I’ve been pretty good. I’m so fucking glad school is over, though.”

Molly swatted her daughter with a kitchen towel. “Watch your tongue, young lady.”

Ginny rolled her eyes and ruffled her mother’s hair. “Yes, mum. By the way, is it alright if I invite Luna and the gang for dinner?”

Molly huffed. “I’ve already set their places on the table, dear.”

Ginny smiled and gestured for Harry to follow her. “Help me with my luggage?”

Ginny had two big trunks full of stuff that was waiting on the front porch, along with two trunks that Harry recognised as Ron and Hermione’s.

Harry flicked his wand and watched as the trunks started to make their way up the staircase. He followed Ginny, who immediately started unpacking her things when they got to her room. He made himself comfortable on her bed, watching her move.

“So, what have I missed?” he asked.

Ginny shrugged, sorting through a messy pile of socks.

“Mum still drops hints at our relationship. I think she’s hoping that we’ll settle down now that you’ve travelled a bit and I’m done with school.”

Harry grimaced. He remembered how afraid he had been of Molly and Arthur’s reactions when he and Ginny had first split up. When they had taken him in way back in second year, they became his first real family. He was so terrified of losing that, he let things with Ginny get almost irreparably bad. When they had finally gotten around to talking about it, Ginny had broken an entire collection of fine china from one of Grimmauld Place’s many cupboards by throwing them at his head. It was mostly thanks to his seeker reflexes and excellent Protego that only one shard of glass had lodged itself into the skin above his left eyebrow.

Of course, that was back when he’d still been trying to decide what he wanted to do with the property. He’d eventually decided to just lock it back up until he needed it.

When she had finally left, he was so embarrassed that he had gone to a muggle doctor for stitches instead of risking a trip to St. Mungo’s. There was now a small scar on the other side of his face, making his reflection almost symmetrical.

He’d given her three weeks to calm down before approaching her again, warily. They went to a coffee shop (it would be harder to attack him in public, he reckoned) and cleared the air. After he reluctantly offered to stay away from the Burrow for a while, Ginny’s anger had flared up again.

“Do we mean that little to you then?” she had asked, rather louder than he would have liked. “You’re part of the fucking family, Harry. You don’t just walk out at the first sign of conflict. Especially after everything we’ve been through together.” She’d seemed to deflate. “Merlin, Harry. Mum wouldn’t survive losing another child. Don’t do that to her.”

The tension that had been unknowingly building up inside him dissipated at her words. He had felt so relieved; he’d almost started crying.

“I’m sorry that we didn’t work out, Gin. It would have been so easy,” Harry mumbled from her bed.

Ginny huffed. “Don’t start with that bullshit again. We’ve talked about this. I’d rather have you as a friend than watch as I make you more miserable with each year of marriage.”

“I wouldn’t have been miserable,” Harry defended. “Just, maybe, still lying to myself whenever I take particular notice of some poor gorgeous hunk on the street.”

Ginny laughed. “You’re such a fucker. I missed you.”

Harry watched her quietly. “George seems…”

Ginny sobered up. “Yeah. I don’t really know what to do about that anymore.”

Harry twirled his wand around his fingers. “I have a plan.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah.” Harry bit his lip. “I’m probably going to need some backup.”

Ginny looked at him. “What are we doing?”

“I can’t stand the tip-toeing anymore. We’re going in stronger.”

“Alright.” Ginny went back to folding her shirts. “Is he coming to dinner?”

“Oh, yes,” Harry stated firmly. “If he’s not there, I will personally skin him alive and feed it to Neville’s Mandrakes. We’re going to Diagon tomorrow if you’d like to come with.”

“Oh, wow, really?” Ginny raised an eyebrow. “That won’t be a cheerful trip.”

Harry sighed. “He needs to deal with it. I was thinking of moving in with him, depending how the trip goes tomorrow. I don’t think living here is going to help one bit.”

Ginny finished unpacking and shoved her empty trunk under her bed, then came to sit next to Harry. “That might be a good idea. Mum means well, but he needs a firmer hand.”

Harry hummed, then let the silence between them grow comfortable. He would always love Ginny a bit differently than his other friends, and he was so glad that they’d sorted out their differences.

“Her name is Severus? Are you kidding me?” Ron exclaimed, holding Ginny’s kitten up to his eye level. “Why the fuck?”

“Ronald!” Molly scolded, and Ron looked slightly sheepish, but looked at Ginny with a disbelieving expression.

She shrugged, a devious glint in her eyes. “I figured that naming a female cat after him would have surely made him burst an artery if he was still alive, and since that had usually been an important factor to consider when making decisions, I figured I couldn’t give up the opportunity.”

Harry scrunched up his face. “He was on the right side at the end.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “I know. I wouldn’t actually go ahead and name my cat after someone truly despicable, like Bellatrix, the fucking bitch.” Molly made another indignant noise but didn’t try too hard to chastise her daughter this time. “Snape was enough of a bastard to make me want to annoy him, but not evil enough that his name will cause riots when mentioned in casual conversation. It’s perfect, really.”

Severus meowed softly in Ron’s hands and he grinned. “Poor cat. You never had a chance with Ginny being in charge of naming you.” He placed the kitten down on the floor, letting her explore the area around his feet. “Where did you even find her?”

Ginny stepped forward to rescue Severus from the cold tiles. “Millicent’s cat gave birth a few weeks ago and she was about to take them to the Menagerie, but I caught her before she left. I figured it was time for me to take a crack at responsibility.”

Hermione chose that moment to step into the kitchen. She was wearing a soft pink coat over a pair of washed out jeans. Her cheeks were flushed, and Harry was once again struck by how at ease she seemed these days. She stepped up to Ron, sliding one of her hands around his back. He reacted instinctively, wrapping one of his arms around her and placing a soft kiss against her temple.

“Guess what Ginny named her cat?” Ron asked, his gleeful smile slightly undermined by the obvious love in his eyes.

Hermione warily glanced at where Ginny was nuzzling her pet against her neck. “I am not sure if I’d like to know.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “You’re all so full of it.” Molly had turned around at the start of Ginny’s sentence, but closed her mouth when she realised her daughter had managed a sentence without swearing. Ginny grinned smugly at her mother.

Harry found himself grinning, too. He’d missed these people so much. He drifted out of the conversation as Ron relayed poor Severus’s origin story to Hermione, just basking in the feeling of being home after so long. The Burrow without all these people seemed foreign to him and hadn’t done much to soothe his homesickness. This, though, was more like it.

The front door opened and there was a soft scuffle. Ginny perked up and headed out. Harry noticed Hermione tense up in Ron’s arms, while Ron winced slightly. Right. That must be Luna, then.

“Harry, dear, would you please go make sure that Neville’s not tracking dirt all over the place?” Molly asked, leaning down to check on something in the oven. “And Ron, go floo-call your father, tell him we’re having dinner in ten minutes.”

Harry pushed himself away from the counter and headed toward the slightly aggressive noises coming from the living room.

“Don’t take everything so personally, Malfoy, Merlin,” Ginny exclaimed, her body turned away from a slightly fuming Malfoy. Upon closer inspection Harry realised that she was keeping Severus away from him.

Right.

“What happened?” Harry asked.

Luna’s face perked up when she noticed him. She tripled over to hug him tightly. Neville nodded at him from behind Malfoy, hands stuck deeply into his trouser pockets. Malfoy didn’t react to his presence, simply continuing to try and glare a hole through Ginny’s scull.

“This is literally the most personal thing ever, _Weasley_ ,” Malfoy spat. “I don’t go around disrespecting your diseased family members, do I?”

Ginny balked like she’d been slapped, and even Harry winced. Neville mumbled something and left the room. Luna let go of Harry to go and run a hand through Malfoy’s hair. She whispered something in his ear, then followed Neville out.

“Gin,” Harry mumbled. Ginny turned to him, her jaw clenched tightly. She stalked past him, dumping her kitten in his hands before disappearing up the stairs. Harry turned his attention to Malfoy, who was now frowning deeply and looking less angry than before.

Fuck. Why did Harry always end up having to deal with a crying Malfoy? Not that he was crying in that moment, but he might as well have been.

Harry sighed in defeat. “Alright, Malfoy. Let’s go for a walk.”

Malfoy followed him through the kitchen, and Ron didn’t ask questions when Harry wordlessly pushed Severus into his hands. He did eye Malfoy curiously and with slight trepidation, but that was just his normal behaviour.

They went to stand close to the fence, looking out over the muggle town far below them.

“I take it you don’t approve of Ginny’s kitten?” Harry asked brashly. Malfoy frowned more intensely.

“I don’t know,” he muttered, which was an entirely different reaction than Harry expected.

“Alright.”

Malfoy glowered up at him. “Fuck off with that tone, Potter. I don’t need a mind-healer.”

“Oh, Malfoy,” Harry smirked. “We all need mind-healers, but I sure as shit am not one.”

Malfoy rolled his eyes but seemed to relax slightly.

“I think she caught me off guard, more than anything,” he admitted. “Also, Severus has always been a bit of a tender spot for me, which she couldn’t have known about.” Malfoy sighed and scratched at his eyebrow with a fingertip. “I overreacted.”

“Do you want her to change the name?” Harry asked. “Ginny’s not unreasonable. She’ll listen if you talk to her like a human being.”

Malfoy scoffed. “No, I’m not a baby. I can handle it. Besides, this is exactly the kind of thing I would have done if he was still alive.”

Harry smirked. “I can just imagine his reaction. It would have been priceless.”

Malfoy laughed, and the sound made Harry relax.

Tense situation: deescalated. He had to admit that his skills have substantially improved since the first time he tried it. Merlin knew that had been one of his most royal fuck ups yet.

“Ready for dinner?”

Malfoy scrunched up his nose. “Ready to be suspiciously stared at by Ronald and his girlfriend while trying to stave off Mrs Weasley’s sneak attempts to add more food on my plate, you mean?”

Harry nodded. “You forgot the absolute delight that will be George’s first appearance at a family event since he locked himself away.” They started to walk back. “Oh, and Ron proposed. Hermione’s his fiancé now.”

Malfoy looked shocked. “Fuck me, this is going to be worse than I ever imagined. I certainly chose an incredible evening to get Ginny pissed at me.”

“I’m sure she’s not pissed.”

Ginny was definitely pissed. She made sure to take a seat as far as humanly possible from where Malfoy was standing and glared his way every time he said something.

Molly seemed oblivious to the tension, urging everyone to help themselves and not be shy. As always, she’d prepared enough for a small army, but Harry knew there would hardly be any leftovers. She kept glancing at the staircase expectantly, but with the hesitancy of someone who had been disappointed before.

Harry was just about to head upstairs to drag George down by his ankles when the remaining twin appeared at the top of the stairs.

He’d obviously taken Harry’s advice and showered, because his hair looked clean. He’d changed into a clean pair of sweatpants and his shirt didn’t have any overly obvious holes in it. He didn’t look at anybody, making a beeline for the seat next to Harry and keeping his gaze trained on the table in front of him.

Molly shot Harry a thankful look. If the rest of the dinner party seemed surprised at the development, they recovered well. Arthur regarded his son with quiet speculation, then turned to debate some new muggle thing with Hermione. Ron was also quieter than usual, but Ginny managed to ease the worst of the tension by telling a story about something that happened during one of the Gryffindor Quidditch practices.

“Thank you,” Harry muttered to George while helping himself to some food. “Would you like potatoes?”

George held out his plate wordlessly, and Harry piled it high with anything he could get his hands on.

So far, his plan was going swimmingly.

His plan was not going as well as he’d hoped.

“I’m not going.” George was once again fiddling with the broken umbrella when Harry showed up to his room the following morning. Harry hadn’t expected the twin to go along on this little trip willingly, but he’d at least hoped for something better than a wide eyed, dishevelled, obviously having stayed up all night George.

“You don’t have a say,” Harry insisted, flicking his wand again to open some windows. George ignored him, sending sparks at whatever it was he was working on. “Please get dressed.”

“No.”

Harry watched his friend for a minute. “George.”

“I came to your stupid dinner last night. What the fuck more do you want?”

“I want my brother to talk to me again.” Ginny had come up behind Harry and had her hands placed stubbornly on her hips. “So, listen to Harry. Please.”

George looked surprised to see Ginny, but then his expression hardened again. “No.”

Harry looked at Ginny for a long moment. She looked to be five minutes away from giving up again.

“Okay.” Harry stepped into the room and took a seat on Fred’s bed. He knew George would freak out about it, which was exactly what he wanted. “I’m not leaving until you come with us. But once you cooperate for a few hours, I will leave you alone forever, and I’ll just let you rot in this room for as long as you want.”

George shrugged. “I’m not going.”

Ginny raised an eyebrow at Harry, who shrugged. “Then neither am I.”

Ginny came back to check on him two hours later. He was still sitting in the exact same spot she’d left him in, but now he was talking relentlessly.

“So, I think they might be onto something with the whole flat earth speculation. Charlie agrees that the ban of any Muggle aircraft flying over Antarctica is suspicious. I’m still trying to figure out whether the origin of this whole debate is magical or Muggle. What do you think?”

George ignored Harry, continuing to glare at the lump of mysterious material on the floor. Harry was about to start listing reasons why the earth’s shape couldn’t possibly be determined only by Muggles and what they think they knew of the world, when he was interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Are you hungry?” Ginny asked.

Harry shrugged. “Not until we get going. We can grab something to eat in Diagon.”

“Fuck. Off.” George grumbled. He was getting progressively angrier at Harry. Harry took that as a good sign. Even though the twins didn’t make a habit of losing their temper, even anger was better than the numb look George had been sporting recently.

“Right, okay. Are we almost leaving, then?” Ginny was speaking to George now, and he looked up at her through his eyelashes.

She was playing dirty. George had a soft spot the size of Russia for his sister, and she normally had him wrapped around her little finger. Harry knew that if Ginny were to actually try and put some pressure on him, he would crack within minutes.

When George didn’t answer, Harry spoke up. “Are you joining me, Gin? I’ve just been trying to figure out what that piece of shit is supposed to be. George refuses to give me a hint.”

Ginny frowned. “George.”

George shrugged. “Leave.”

“Harry told you,” Ginny said, letting the door close behind her. “We’re not going anywhere unless you’re with us.”

George sighed deeply and closed his eyes tightly. His hands shook when he put down his wand so he could hide his face in both of his hands. “I can’t- “

This is it, Harry thought. Something real, at last.

Ginny went over to her brother and pulled him in. His forehead rested against her stomach and he clutched tightly at her shirt.

“Please don’t make me go there.”

Harry also went closer. “This is why you have to, Georgie.”

Ginny ran her fingers through George’s hair. “You’re avoiding him, and until you face your loss head on, you’re not going to heal. He’s going to keep haunting everything you do, and that’s no way to live.”

It took a few minutes for George to get his breathing under control. He was still shaking, and he looked like he’d rather have a fork shoved through his eyes at that moment, but he nodded.

Ginny placed a kiss on top of his head. “Okay, let’s go.”

They flooed to Flourish and Blotts. Luckily, it didn’t seem to be a peak shopping day at Diagon Alley. Aside from the bored-looking cashier, there was only one woman in the bookshop. Harry and Ginny bracketed George in between them and quickly made their way to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Harry knew the shop would be neat and clean, almost empty since he and Ginny had gone through the contents.

They hesitated outside, and George looked deathly pale. Harry placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You okay?”

George took a deep breath, but nodded. “I think- could you maybe give me a few minutes?” His voice cracked slightly, and Harry felt his heart break all over again for his friend.

Harry squeezed his shoulder. “Whatever you need.”

Ginny took his hand. “I’m so proud of you.”

George shook them off, then walked up the steps as if his feet were moving on their own. The door shut behind him with a very anticlimactic sound, and Harry let out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding.

Ginny came closer to him, and he grabbed her hand tightly. She hid her face in his shoulder.

“That was hard.” She mumbled. Harry had to agree.

When George eventually came back out, Harry and Ginny were sitting next to each other on the steps, watching the trickle of people passing them every now and then, and making a game out of guessing what they were on their way to buy.

“You don’t think he’s going to get his robes fitted properly?” Ginny asked.

Harry scoffed. “No, he looks like he deals with customer relations at Gringotts. He’s probably on his way to stock up on firewhiskey to fuel his stress-induced drinking habit.”

“Or he’s run out of diapers for his new-born baby.”

Both of them turned around at the unexpected voice.

George’s eyes were red, and he looked just about dead on his feet. He sunk down in between Harry and Ginny, and they put both of their arms around him.

“Could we get ice cream, do you think? Is that appropriate?” George mumbled.

Harry chuckled. “Who cares about appropriateness? Fred certainly never did.”

George also let out a faint chuckle, which soon turned into a sob.

Ginny ended up making the trip to Fortescue’s, coming back with three brightly coloured monstrosities. They sat there on the steps until the last of the melted ice cream had been licked clean from their fingers.

“I’m sorry,” George muttered when they were done. “You had a point, with me hiding away and trying to pretend like everything’s still the way it used to be.” He bit his lip. “And I’m not going to pretend that I’m all better now, I’m probably still going to spend too much time in my room and be rude to people, but I think I’m less scared now. So, thanks, I guess, for being so fucking stubborn.”

Harry turned to his friend, hesitating slightly. “Uhm, yeah, about that.” George looked at him, his expression tired and uneasy, but open. “Would you like to move in with me?”

George’s eyes widened. “What?”

Harry shrugged. “I need a place to stay, and I really hate the idea of living all on my own. This way we’ll both have company, and you could have a change of scenery.”

“Where?” George asked. He hadn’t agreed, but he wasn’t refusing either.

“I don’t mind,” Harry said. “If you feel ready to tackle the flat above the shop, we’ll help you with that, otherwise we could find somewhere else.”

George thought about it for a long moment.

“Yeah, okay. Just- you’re telling Mum.”

Harry smiled. “I can handle Molly. Nothing will disappoint her more than Ginny dumping me.”

Ginny scoffed and reached over George to shove at Harry’s shoulder. “Honestly, Georgie, I think Mum will just be glad that you’ve left your room twice in one week.”

George winced. “I kind of want to go back now.”

Harry groaned. “Fine, but you’re coming to dinner again tonight, and then, like, every night.”

“Oh!” Ginny piped up as they got ready to leave. “You haven’t met Severus yet.”

George shot Harry a confused look. “I think I have?”

Harry laughed. “No, you’ll meet her when we get home.”

“Her!?” George exclaimed, and allowed Ginny to drag him along by his hand.

“You’ll love her, I promise,” Ginny assured him cheekily.

Harry could only smile at his friends. They still had quite a way to go, but they were moving forward, and that’s all that mattered.


End file.
